Crises!

April 21st, 2005 Posted in 2005

When it rains it pours for poor old JP.com.

The first crisis came earlier this week, with the loss of my net connection at home. This never sounds like it’ll be a big deal, of course — until it happens, at which point it’s a catastrophe of clothes-rending proportions. I don’t think I’d ever realized just how thoroughly the internet had seeped into my daily routine until it was wrested cruelly from my grasp. My evenings are now spent in an endlessly repeating loop of me deciding to do something (check email, work on the website, lay something out for my day job, update my Netflix queue, etc), then realizing I can’t, followed by an awkward little heel turn away from the computer and back into the living room.

The other crisis came in the form of my grandmother, a church-going woman devoted to Christ and His teachings, who evidently managed to get online over the weekend and somehow found JayPinkerton.com. Whoops.

I don’t think she got very far in — ironically, she probably only saw the very tip of the iceberg of my blasphemy — but while perusing an update she was shocked to discover her grandson using the Lord’s name in vain and describing some rather explicit sexual situations. Whoops.

She’s a kindly old woman, and certainly wants nothing but the best for her grandson — especially when it concerns eternal damnation and her grandson roasting in a lake of seething hellfire. In an effort to mend fences, I offer this comic:

On a separate note, I popped over to Walgreens this morning to pick up my beach pictures from the weekend, and ended up getting caught behind and old lady who A) haggled over seven cents for ten minutes and finally got the manager out so she could yell about the seven cents, then B) paid for her $3.49 purchase with approximately $3.49 worth of PENNIES.

Had there been a big screen TV over my head at that point, broadcasting my thoughts to Walgreens customers, it would have shown me grabbing the old woman by her prim little hairbun, beating her head like a tambourine off the counter until all the pennies were stuck to her forehead, then taking seven cents out of my own pocket and drop-kicking each one of them up her colon while yelling: “Time for a boot deposit…in your ass-bank!”

So probably for the best no such television existed, really.

T’any rate, in lieu of an update, I offer somes pictures of my trip to the beach with my girlfriend Karla over the weekend. Here’s one of yours truly caught in mid-macho pose, totally signifying the shit out of man’s eternal struggle with Nature.

And, in the interests of full disclosure, the results of that struggle several seconds later, after Nature gave Man one hell of a freezing salt water enema.